The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1887-12-14

j T ~
her brains. and Society went her way with
out any. p. S.-She doesn't need any.
| They would be to her fatal gift, more
| dreadful than the shirt of Nessus, shirt
| maker to the Athletes.
A DEADLY PLOT FoILED
A careful search of the room formerly &C.
cupied by Herr Most brought to light a
cake Of soap and q fine.tooth comb con-
cealed under the floor. Most says they
were placed there by detectives bent upon
| his destruction, but the general belief is
that the Anarchist had resolved to commit
suicide rather than submit to arrest and
imprisonment.
FOOTBALL ACRosTIC.
Ny heart and heels throb nigh for all
| Under whatever flag they kick;
| Let's fill glass to those who fall;
| Empty IL down for those who lick.
STRICTLY BUSINESS.
Father" said Rollo, why do base ball
| pitchers get so much larger salaries than
| preechers?n "Sbl" said Rollo's father
| (who is a deacon) cautiously, 'come here
into the back room behind the door. Sh
| simultaneously sometimes, mind you, it
is because The pitcher trains longer, al
ways finds his sermon. in his text, never
pitches for political effect, never t1ies to
| pitch when he and all his congregation are
morally and physically satisfied that he
can't, and, in fact. if be can't pitch, there
isn't church in America that would give
him place in the battery, even if he Of
feTed to come without salary and pay his
own expenses. SteP' Rollo said that he
thought his father had got some o. his
technical terms little mixed, but. on the
whole, be caught on. Sometimes, you
see, Rollo is little slow, and Rollo's faith
er does not always express himself very
clearly. But still. However. Neverthe-
less.
THE GATES BETWEEN.
Lady Geraldine bad been dead fifteen
years. Winter storms and summer Gains
had Tsged and slept above the grim old
We ult where lay the moulderipg dust of
| the naughty Featherstones, exclusive even
| in death and decay. And all these years
Lord Edward lived a strange, ftful, rest
less life Of alternating seasons of mad
| gayety and sombre loneliness. He grew
hard, and harsh, and grim, and wore the
cautious, watching face of a troubled
man. For it was whispered about that
Lady Geraldine did not sleep, although
her beautiful figure bad long since
crumbled into dust. But night after
night, when the clock in the lonely turret
| over the stables tolled the hour Of mid
night, and the terrified hounds in the ken
mel ceased their bowling and huddled to-
| gether, a shuddeTing breath of cold night
| wind swept through the halls, and step,
step, step softly yet plainly up the broad
/ stairway and step step, step down the
/ the broad stairway he followed the guild
Ing line of the baluster-rail, and by the
/ dying light of the hall lamp he showed
| her the front door locked, the bolt slipped
| in and turned, the chain on, the bar across
| the top and bottom bolts shot in place and
| the night latch set. With a soft, glad,
grfcefel sigh Lady Geraldine glided out
| into the night, and Lord Edward went
back to led, Fifty long years ago that
] was, but never since that night has ghost
\ or spiTite disturbed the peace and happi-
-'ss OF Castle Goober.E EEa So &sss5 ID -
49, - -. AN EXPERT. -gaSg -. 49,
Il suppose" said the stranger, as the
group of travellers were discussing the ma.
ture of the malady from which the German
Crown Prince is suffering. 81 suppose
| have had as much experience in the treat
ment of malignant and rapid throat
/ troubles as any man in America. "Ah,
| you are a physician, them NO" said
the stranger, mot exactly, but for six years
was chairman of Texas vigilance COM
| mittee."
FROM THE OPPOSITION BENCHES.
Ting, ling, ling goes the door-bell in a
very peJemptory manner. "a telegram
for you, dear" says Mrs. STannld0 wn !;
read il quickly; q telegram always fright
ems me-" "But this is nothing terrifying"
replies her husband, sit is only ten words
from my dear mother, who says she is COM
ing to spend the holidays with us. How
delightfuI~ ALAS" means Mrs. Swan
midtown, I'VE never know when we are safe |!
Who would dream that these dreadful An
archists would get to sending their internal
machines in.telegraph envelopes.
THE FLUTTER OF A BUTTERFLY's WING.
It is said by one OF his sons that the late
E. A. Sothern left two tons of manuscri pt
plays. That isn't much. Not long ago we
heard little two act comedy, written by
the leading American humorist and with
| Americas great comedian in the star part,
that weighed three tons In the first act the
second act had to be presented in skating
rink, because the Building Commissioners
refused to issue a permit for its perform
ance anywhere above the ground floor.
Two tons of play may be considered pretty
heavy work In football match, but it is
an airy and uncomfortable trife on the
comic stage. There are the dramatic days
| in which the elephant is q burden, and
nothing goes except classical aggregation
with three Uncle Toms and real water.
WOMAN ON THE sLEEPER.
what will we do with eternity" asked
Miss ROteDud, looking out of the car win
dow one morning, when even time often
hangs heavily on our hands?' 1--WE will
wait" replied the parsons wife, "for that
freckled woman with false teeth to come
out of the dressing room and let some real
woman have a chance to wash her face,
and we won't have q minute to spare,
either"
| A GREATER cIPHERER THAN DoNNELLY.
Jacques Wissler, the man who engraved
the plates from which the Confederate
money, so-called, was printed, died in New
Jersey few weeks ago. 1t cannot be said
OF him that "his works do follow him."
They went ahead of him-about twenty
two years ahead. Here Is an exceptional
case, In which the man might have taken
all the millions of money that he made to
heaven with him. There was no wealth in
II, and IL would be about the smallest rep
resentation of nothing that q man could
show at the gate unless he took of his skin,
scalped himself. and cold his skeleton be-
fore he applied for admission.
HUNTING THE HUNTER.